


memory

by ADaughterOfColdharbour



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Forgetting Your Life And The Ones You Love hahahaaahahahaa im FINE, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Will get worse before it gets better, guess who's back babey, it's gonna be multichapter, sorry - Freeform, this started as a quick drabble but swiftly took on a life of its own, yeah this one is kind of. A Lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADaughterOfColdharbour/pseuds/ADaughterOfColdharbour
Summary: V gets injured whilst out on a gig, and suffers from retrograde amnesia. She cant seem to remember how this happened, what happened yesterday, or the man that looks at her with love in his eyes.Sorry.Set in an AU version of Act II, spoilers mentioned in passing
Relationships: V/Viktor Vector
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  
_ _Right in front of me_

* * *

Marina wakes slowly, breathing in deep through her nose. There's an irritating beeping noise coming from somewhere to her right, making her scrunch her face in annoyance. And immediately regrets it, as the shift in expression makes her skin pull at something on her forehead, the sudden sting making her hiss through clenched teeth.

What sounds like a chair scraping across linoleum makes her startle, eyes opening as she looks to her left, mouth dropping open slightly at the sight of a man.

He's half out of the low chair, hand held so tightly to the side rail of her bed that his knuckles are white. A colourful sleeve decorates his thickly muscled arm, disappearing beneath his wrinkled shirt. He's handsome, in a rugged way, and her breath leaves her in a short gust as she locks eyes with him.

He's staring at her with a sort of reverence, combined with naked relief. It makes her want to shrink away, or hide under the blanket. She quickly averts her eyes, nervous energy making her shift her weight beneath the light blanket.

She's in a hospital room, she realizes as fear begins to turn her veins cold. Bland art on the wall, a needle hooked to her arm, the whole nine. A lovely stranger looking at her like she's hung the bloody moon is new, but hey. Glass half full. Her arm is pressed tight to her chest, covered in thick bandages that tie over her shoulder and across her ribs. She tries to focus, tries to _think_. She remembers - she remembers -

_Why doesn't she remember?_

"You still with me?" He asks, making her startle once more. Mari glances at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Sorry, just," she shakes her head, chuckling breathlessly as she brings a hand to her temple. Her fingers meet something rough, and she realizes there's a bandage and gauze wrapped around her head. What the _hell_ happened?

She glances back at the man, blinking rapidly. "Are you my doctor?"

He chuckles, the sound strained. "You could say that, sweetheart."

Mari straightens, brows furrowing. "Excuse me?" Panic hits deeper, now. He's still staring at her, even as she shifts as far from him as she can, hip hitting the rail on the far side of the bed. His expression falls, mouth dropping open. Mari's chest heaves, skittish as a rabbit as she realizes she's very alone, and very vulnerable, with a man she doesn't know.

"Mari," he says her name slowly, leaning back in his chair to give her space. She appreciates that, in some small way. "Do you know who I am?"

The fear in his voice makes her more afraid, too. She opens her mouth, closes it again. No words will form, so instead she shakes her head.

He almost deflates in his chair, hand pressed hard to his mouth as his eyes fall shut. A part of her feels guilty - but she doesn't understand _why_.

The door suddenly opens and Mari is grateful, head still spinning. A tall woman with short blonde hair appears, smiling softly with a clipboard pressed to her chest.

"Glad to see you awake, Miss Velum -"

She's already shaking her head, more habit than anything else. "Just Marina," she says, right at the same moment the man next to her says "It's just V."

She whips her head to look at him, irritation bubbling within her chest. He's staring at her in such a way that she feels her face flame; disbelief and the same sort of heartbreak from earlier.

"Well. Marina, then," the doctor interrupts, looking between them with a thin brow arched. "I suspected something like this," she says, mostly to herself before muttering too low for Mari to make out. She thinks she may have caught the phrase _acute retrograde amnesia_ and feels like she might be violently ill.

The doctor busies herself checking Mari's vitals, allowing her time to swallow down her scream. She focuses on the far wall, free hand clenched into a tight fist. She cant look at the man, cant afford to even consider just what the _fuck_ is happening to her. _Amnesia_ keeps echoing in her head like a broken record, and she chuckles in disbelief. It's impossible, it's just. Not fucking possible. This is the kind of shit in bad movies, not her goddamn life.

"Could you tell me what year it is?" The doctor interrupts her spiraling thoughts, and Mari blinks up at her.

"It's -" She had it, it's right at the tip of her tongue. Frustration makes her brows furrow, her head beginning to ache. She remembers ... She tries to think back, think of anything from the past months that might -

"Oh!" She says suddenly, grinning as relief makes her sag against the pillow. Her birthday; she remembers her birthday party. It was a big one; the Coyote packed to full, all her friends in one place with drinks freely flowing.

She beams up at the doctor, sighing wistfully. "It's 2075. I remembered my 25th birthday," she says with a laugh.

No one else is laughing. Mari thinks the temperature in the room may have dropped, she goes cold so fast.

The doctor is kind enough not to burst her bubble any further, instead giving her a small and indulgent smile before she takes in a deep breath.

"You took a swan dive off a second story balcony," the doctor says, smile flickering as Mari gasps, shoulders flinching. "Witnesses saw you fall, land in an alley on a pile of trash. Took a nasty hit to the head, and dislocated your shoulder. Other than that, your back is bruised to hell, but you should be out of here soon." She's succinct, no-nonsense and free of bullshit. Mari doesn't know if she hates that or appreciates it.

"A knock to the back of the head wouldn't cause amnesia," the man responds before she can, still watching her.

"No," the doctor agrees with a small sigh. "But a stroke would. I'm guessing that's what caused her to fall."

The conversation delves into medical jargon that she cant hope to keep up with, so Mari lets their voices fade to background noise as she eases herself back in bed, head spinning wildly. It feels almost like a dream; like she's watching this happen through a fog-covered window, and the girl in the bed is someone who looks like her, sounds like her, but cant **_cant_ **be her. She doesn't remember what she doesn't remember and that alone is enough to make her slam a fist into the bed as her breath starts coming in gasps, tears burning her eyes as her throat suddenly goes raw from the force of her scream.

Not a dream, perhaps. But a nightmare.

The doctor rushes to stick a syringe in her arm, telling her to calm down. Mari doesn't have the energy to fight back, terrified at what her mind is doing to her. Hands push her down onto the bed and the last thing she sees before the drugs knock her out is the look on the man's face, her own pain reflected back at her in deep green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> viktorsvector.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a week late but who's counting  
> as always, enjoy nd lemme know what you think x

She drifts in and out of consciousness, body recovering in a haze of simmering pain and anger. The pain is something she's used to, in her line of work. But the anger stems from frustration; at both the situation she's found herself in as well as her own mind. She's being betrayed by her own body and it aggravates her in a way she's unfamiliar with, temper short and shoulders permanently hunched. Mari's truly angry, tearing apart from the inside out as tears burn her eyes in the middle of the night. Everything's upside down but also not, and she doesn't know how to reign everything in to even begin approaching normalcy.

It had come to a head about three days after she'd first woken up. A chilly Tuesday morning saw Mari padding slowly from her bed to the window and back again, shuffling her sore legs in fluffy blue slippers she'd been told were hers but doesn't recognize. The doctor had come in, letting her know she would be discharged the next morning and to _keep positive, your memories will return in no time!_ and Mari had felt something snap inside her.

Too much coddling, too many people walking on eggshells around her. Didnt they understand that she was torn up inside enough already? That the last thing she needed was to hear shit like that; what she needed was someone to treat her like a normal goddamn person, not someone who could shatter at any moment. She'd thrown a dinner tray at the wall, healing shoulder burning beneath the bandages. She hadn't ever, ever, let her temper get the better of her; always the level head, always the one to cry over nothing and reach with warm hands to heal, never harm. Yet the frustration burns as hot as any fire, making her want to scream.

Whoever this version of Mari is -V, her mind supplies unhelpfully- she doesnt like her.

Viktor - Viktor is the only one who looks at her without pity. Who talks to her and actually fucking listens. She doesn't know who he is to V, but she knows who he is to Mari. An invaluable friend, keeping her grounded.

He'd sat with her, brought her coffee -he never asked but it always had too much sugar, just the way she liked it- and made her laugh. He's kind, and clever, and had smiled at her in a way that made her feel at ease.

Sometimes, though, he would still look at her and that smile would slip, just a little. Betraying the storm of emotion he kept hidden, the fear and heartbreak and anxiety. And Mari feels ... sad, at that. Sad for what he must have lost, though he hadn't told her what that was and she was still too afraid to ask.

Even with that loss clouding his eyes and his heart, he still spends time with her, flicking through the channels on the TV in her room, bringing her food, and even helping her to the shower. The best doctor she'd ever had, which she made sure to tell him. Vik had only shook his head, sad smile on his face.

* * *

She's standing inside an apartment, sunglasses pushed up into her hair as she does a slow turn around the place. It's small but kitsch as hell, which makes her heart feel lighter for the first time in days. Brightly coloured clothes are folded on the coffee table, fresh pack of smokes on the windowsill. It's her place, or so she'd been told. But the room is unfamiliar, filled with items and memories she doesnt recognize, only a scant few she does. Mari smiles regardless, turning to look at Vik, who has a hand pressed to the side of his face. He gives her a little half-smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"Misty and me, we uh - we cleaned up the place for ya," he says, and something in her heart tightens at his words. Mari bites the inside of her cheek, nodding her head in thanks as she drops her bag onto the couch, rolling her still-sore shoulder back. She walks slowly to the window, looking out across the wide expanse of Watson and lets out a breath. At least this is familiar.

"I'm gonna head down to Tom's, grab both of us a coffee and some lunch. Sound good?" She turns to look at him with an easy smile, feeling grateful for the nth time.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Mari says, cheeks pink as she runs a hand through her hair. It's strange beyond words, to feel this way about a man she just met. But there's something within her, something that tells her that this is right, that they fit together in ways she may never understand. And knows, deep down, that its because of a shared history she doesn't remember. Might never remember. She looks at Vik and thinks that he might like her; but he likes a different Mari with different habits and memories. Yet the more she looks at him the more she wants to kiss him.

Bizarre, really, since her competition is herself.

She shakes away her thoughts and shoots Vik a thumbs up, unwrapping the pack of smokes and sticking one between her lips. He offers her a wave as he leaves, Mari unashamedly staring at just how broad his back is before the door slides shut and she's alone.

It's only when she's done the first smoke and halfway through the second when she plucks up enough courage to snoop through the apartment. Well, it isn't snooping, not really, since everything in here is hers. Allegedly.

Taking a deep breath, she kneels on the bed and looks towards a shelf, near overflowing with knickknacks. Ticket stubs from concerts, a glow-in-the-dark bracelet, wadded-up receipts. A vibrator hidden behind a picture frame that she immediately shoves back into place. The photo itself is one she doesn't recognize, and she pulls it off the shelf with trembling fingers.

It's a handful of people grouped around a table, shoved on one side together as a smiling man holds out the camera, angling to take a selfie. He has dark hair shot through with grey, and mesmerizing white optics. Next to him is Misty, then a large man with only one eye. At the other end is a dark-skinned woman, holding a glass of something dark up to the camera. Another woman with colourful hair and a myriad of tattoos sits next to her, and then a man with white hair and rivers of gold cyberware down his throat and chest. At the center is Mari herself, laughing with a flush on her face, with Viktor next to her, looking at her face instead of the camera. Mari thinks for a moment she sees a flicker of someone behind her, a silver hand on her shoulder. But when she blinks and looks closer there's nothing there.

She recognizes almost no one, the photo trembling in her hands as she all but shoves it back on the shelf. These people - they love her, she can tell that much through the smiles and the faint echo of laughter. But she doesn't remember their names, or how they met. She doesn't remember what brought them all together, or why that makes her so, so sad.

It threatens to eat her up, the misery. She looks at the smiling faces of her supposed friends and feels nothing. And that isn't fair; not just to Mari, but to them. Her heart pounds as she looks back at the frame, her hand curling into a tight fist as she takes a shaky breath.

She cant lose herself within the downward spiral of panic and loss. Refuses to bend to the fear of her lost memories. Mari straightens her shoulders and heads for the bathroom. Normalcy, she needs normalcy. Vik will be back soon, they'll share a coffee and a chat. But until then... Mari had seen the state of her roots in the mirror this morning, and really, what's more normal than dying her hair? She's an expert at avoiding her problems by now; she'll consider what to do about the state of her heart later.

The bathroom is small but tidy, and she immediately goes to her knees in front of the sink, pulling the cupboard open. Shaving kit, a bag of makeup, some cleaning supplies ... There. She let's out a thankful breath, reaching into the cupboard, tongue between her teeth. Her fingers brush against the (familiar) brightly coloured box, her wrist bumping against the smooth side of a bottle. The glass is cold against her and she frowns, ducking her head down to get a better look. Her frown deepens as she moves to pull the bottle out, blowing a strand of loose hair from her face as she brings it up to the light.

It's cologne, she realizes with furrowed brows. A brand she doesnt recognize, made for men. Her hands begin to tremble as she pops the top off, bringing the nozzle to her nose and taking a deep inhale that makes her eyes go wide, breath leaving her in a gust.

It smells like Vik.

Mari nearly drops it, a rush of emotion she cant begin to put a name to surging through her veins. Why - why is this here? In her bathroom, in her home?

The answer dances at the recesses of her mind, and she knows, she knows. But she's too afraid to face it.

So she does the normal thing and shoves the bottle back under the sink, leaving the dye and goes straight back to the living room, resigning herself to forgetting she found it. She's forgotten so much already, what's one more thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> viktorsvector.tumblr.com


End file.
